


It's You and Me Against the Odds

by innusiq



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Male Slash, Miscarriage, Modern Era, Mpreg, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innusiq/pseuds/innusiq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin Mpreg Prompt:  <i>Merlin and Arthur are trying for a child but Merlin keeps on miscarrying. But neither of them knew Arthur was also capable of getting pregnant until he starts experiencing typical pregnancy symptoms.</i> I might have veered a bit from the prompt, but the prompt is still basically a good brief summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's You and Me Against the Odds

"Uncle Merlin! Uncle Merlin! Let's play Dragon and Dragonlord!"

Arthur and Merlin have barely stepped foot inside the home of their best friends (Lance, Arthur's and Gwen, Merlin's) before being assaulted by the pleas of their pseudo nephew Max (Maximillion Jasper Du Lac if one were being formal), as Merlin basically becomes the center of their friends' five-year-old son's world the moment they arrive, regardless the fact Arthur is the boy's _official_ Godfather (the position having been granted him by way of making him more _officially_ part of the family over any real religious guidance). Arthur honestly can't blame the kid's tunnel vision when it comes to Merlin though as he watches Merlin's full attention focus right back on the boy, and before anyone else has a chance to react, or chide the child about letting them at least get through the front door, Merlin is crawling around on the floor with Max, speaking words in a supposedly _dragon-like_ manner (grumbly with moments of breathed fire sounds) and flapping pretend wings while Max speaks in an authoritative voice (for a five-year-old) which Merlin obeys as any good _dragon_ would to its _Dragonlord_.

"Come, we know when we're not needed," Gwen coaxes with an amused smile, probably assuming Arthur's feeling left out, when really it's furthest from the truth.

"In a bit," Arthur murmurs, offering Gwen a reassuring smile.

Gwen pats his arm in return, smiling knowingly back, before waddling her seven-month pregnant self toward the kitchen where he knows she will begin a pot of water for tea. It's usually a good hour before Merlin calls _uncle_ and staves off playtime for more adult conversation (and a nap for their _nephew_ ), and usually in that hour Arthur and Gwen pass the time with the afore mentioned tea and whatever sweets she's baked up for their visit, especially now that she is expecting her second child and craving sweets like nobody’s business, and catching up on their lives since they visited last. When Arthur does turn his attention back to Merlin and Max, it's to find Max now riding on the _dragon's_ back, _whooping_ and _wheeing_ as he soars through the air, the sight catching something in Arthur's chest that before Merlin, he wouldn't have been able to identify or define, but now knows, simply put, as his never stagnant, ever evolving _love_ for the man. 

Upon meeting, for some people, all it takes is one look, _love at first sight_ so to speak (something Arthur doesn't believe is remotely possible even if Merlin insists otherwise), a look that catches hook-line-sinker style, while for others it's more a moment, months into a relationship, that flicks the light switch, dawning realization pinpointing the day it is realized someone is _the one_ , but for Arthur it was neither a look, nor a singular moment, but a series of looks and moments beginning from the day they met which led him to the realization that for him, Merlin was it, _the one_ , and no matter what others may think, no matter how different they may seem or actually _be_ , he and Merlin were made for each other, or _meant to be_ as Gwen likes to tease now and again. _Fate_ , something else Arthur may not be one hundred percent convinced of, but all the same can’t deny feeling that there was never anyone else in this world for him but Merlin.

When Arthur first met Merlin, there wasn't an instant connection or even a friendly greeting, but more an abrupt and scathing _Royal Prat_ thrown in return to Arthur's own initiated _Stupid Idiot_ over a bodily collision that was really both their faults even if neither would admit it. Arthur had coffee spilled down his university sweatshirt and Merlin's books were scattered around their feet. The fire in Merlin's eyes after the reprimand, a fire to this day only Arthur is able to draw out (and probably the sexiest thing he's ever seen), left him speechless, surprised and refreshed of not just finding someone, _anyone_ , willing to stand up to him but someone able to rile him up even more so than his own half-sister Morgana ever could. Arthur had watched as Merlin began gathering books, a few more colorful words muttered under breath like _Dollophead_ and _Clotpole_ , leaving Arthur no other choice than to laugh uproariously in amusement. When Merlin shot him an even more fiery warning Arthur relented, even smiled, and crouched to help the then nameless man with his books.

__

Eight Years Ago

"Sorry," Arthur quietly offers, handing the other student one of the dropped books.

"You should be. You _should_ watch where you're going," the guy bites back, stacking the heavy tombs, but otherwise not meeting Arthur's eyes.

"I _meant_ for laughing," Arthur returned, smirking at the other guy's reddening cheeks, causing the student's hands to pause in their task. 

"Ya know, just because your father could own the entire campus, doesn't mean you have the right to walk around like _you_ do as well." The words are angry and accusing, accompanied by brilliant blue eyes that strangely have a hint of amber at their edges as they flick up, briefly meeting Arthur's before the guy focuses back on his books to gather the stack and stand. 

"You're right, my father could," Arthur admits, brushing off his knees and standing as well. "But I'd hardly think it a wise investment, and far more generous than he's capable."

Arthur smirks again as the unexpected comment clearly startles the other student, before reaching out a hand and offering a more _inviting_ smile. "The name's Arthur, but I guess we both know you're already well aware."

The student with a mop of dark and unruly hair, sharp cheekbones any model would kill for, and ears even more-so prominent, returns the greeting in silence, long, wiry arms tightening around his stack of books. There's blinking too, long lashes sweeping down and up, and eyes turning a piercing blue, questioning, _doubting_ , probably disbelieving the sincerity in Arthur's gesture.

"This is usually the part where you take my hand and tell me your name," Arthur leans in, teasingly nudging the other university student verbally, enjoying the sour look blooming across the guy's face, and the muttered _definite Prat_.

"Merlin," the dark haired man eventually replies, resolutely _not_ taking Arthur's hand, something that doesn't put Arthur off but intrigues him even more.

"Alright, _Mer_ lin, I guess I'll see you around."

__

Present

Even with such a rocky start, it wasn't surprising to Arthur that barely a week later he was asking Merlin out on their first date. The look on Merlin's face when the question spilled from Arthur's mouth was priceless: eyes owlishly blinking in disbelief, mouth opening and closing in shock and indecision, and a rosy tint coloring Merlin's cheeks as a small impish grin emerged because Arthur wasn't the only one feeling _this_ , leaving Arthur praying he was reading the other man correctly and that Merlin would say yes. Things continued to tumble from that point.

There was a morning, really not that different from any other morning, where Arthur woke to the smell of breakfast wafting through his flat, pancakes, as that was Merlin's _specialty_ (also known as the only food item Merlin is qualified and allowed to make), sheets twisted about, and the smell of Merlin anywhere he buried his nose within the linens. Merlin walked into the bedroom, balancing two plates in one hand and two coffees in the other, grinning from ear to ear (most likely laughing at the tufts of Arthur's hair poking out any which way), but Arthur couldn't be bothered to grouse about Merlin's own wayward locks, especially when the other man held the nectar of the gods within arms length, and was otherwise very tempting in his own right, bedhead and all.

__

Seven Years, Nine Months Ago

" _Good morning_ , my sleepy Prat," Merlin smiles as he sets the coffees on the bedside table, quickly switching out so that one plate of food is held in each hand, before leaning down and offering a chaste kiss, miraculously maintaining balance of the plates (the fact that Merlin is only wearing boxers does not escape Arthur's attention).

"Hmmmmm, morning my beautiful Idiot," Arthur returns, voice a bit gravely as he settles his hands on Merlin's hips, directing the other man to exactly where he wants him.

Merlin's chest rumbles with a suppressed laugh, suggesting, "I think we should eat breakfast first."

" _I_ think we should never leave this bed," Arthur returns, silencing any further protest Merlin might make with another not so chaste (definitely _not_ chaste) kiss, Merlin easily straddling Arthur’s lap as directed and miraculously settling the plates of food down on either side of them without losing a single crumb of cake or drip of syrup.

"Mmmmmm," Merlin hums, pulling back from the kiss while his fingers comb through Arthur's wayward hair, rocking just that little bit, enough to bring forth both their mutual interest in satisfying a clearly different hunger. "I think that can be arranged."

__

Present

Needless to say, all Merlin's efforts at not making a mess with their breakfast that morning, in the end, were for naught, because by the time they finished their early morning _activities_ it was more than sleep causing Arthur's hair to stand up on end. They were both a sticky, syrupy mess, his sheets a wreck with more than syrup stains, and all Arthur could think in that moment was _this is exactly how I want to wake up each and every morning_. It was that day he asked Merlin to move in with him, three months and three days after they first ran into each other on campus, regardless of what _some_ claimed was far too soon to be making such a _frivolous commitment_ (Arthur's father’s words and opinion only).

The day Lance and Gwen married, Arthur the groom's best man, and Merlin the bride's _man of honor_ , was a day filled with happy excitement, bundled nerves, and above all else a sense of _destiny and love_ (a sentiment Arthur will deny admitting to his death no matter what Merlin may say to the contrary). The marriage of their two friends was more than simply the next step in a relationship, rather an _inevitability_ , something everyone in their small group of friends knew from day one would happen, it being only at matter of time. When Lance first met Gwen, in Merlin's words, it was _love at first sight_. No other woman existed outside Lance's tunnel vision focused on Gwen, and the sparkle in Gwen's eyes when she looked back at Lance mirrored the same. They were two of the most loving and caring souls Arthur had ever known, some days a bit sickeningly so, and he couldn't have been happier for them on their wedding day.

__

Six Years Ago

"You may now, kiss the bride," the ceremony's presider announces, receiving a chorus of clapping and cheers, and happy tears from the couple's family, friends and guests.

Lance doesn't waste any time taking his now _wife_ into his arms and dipping her slightly before doing just that. Arthur beams with pride, knowing _this_ is a match made in heaven, something Arthur hopes is in his own future as he looks beyond the newly married couple and catches Merlin's watery eyes, and happy, albeit trembling smile. Merlin's smile becomes a bit steadier as it widens in Arthur's direction, leaving Arthur breathless in the knowledge that it's not so much he hopes to find his own version of _happily ever after_ but that he wants and desires, _needs_ , to have _this_ , and the hope is more that Merlin wants this too, with _him_.

Later, after the meal and well-wishing speeches and toasts, the time comes for the newly married couple's first dance, which is followed by the small wedding party (Arthur and Merlin only) joining them on the dance floor. It's with his hands settled on Merlin's hips and Merlin's arms wrapped around his shoulders that Arthur murmurs _I love you_ for the first time against Merlin's temple. It’s not that this is the first he’s realized he is in love with Merlin because really, it feels like he’s always _loved_ Merlin, but uttering those three words seemed the scariest thing he’d ever faced up to that moment. He can feel Merlin's posture straighten at his sincere admittance before pulling back to search Arthur's face, for what, Arthur hasn't a clue, but Merlin's eyes are watery again, and the same trembling and happy smile is directed at Arthur as Merlin whispers (not for the first time) in a cracked voice, "I love you, too!"

They seal their declarations with a kiss, in front of all the unsuspecting guests (maybe there are some suspecting), Arthur's hands releasing Merlin's hips to cup his face and guide him in. They receive a wink from Gwen when the song finally ends as they pull apart, Arthur blushing being caught in such a public display of affection, but he can't seem to care when he's got Merlin's hand clasped in his own and Merlin's ever present warmth at his side as they make their way across the dance floor toward the ballroom's exit, regardless the fact they are only one dance into the night's celebration.

It's a miracle they even make it to their reserved room, especially when once the lift doors close their hands refuse to be kept to themselves, nor their mouths, or any other part of them. There's one moment of embarrassment when the doors slide open five floors down from their own, revealing a gawping bellboy on the verge of dropping a tray of dishware, but Merlin recovers quickly, pressing the _close door_ button and giggling into Arthur's neck before sucking a bite into his flesh.

When Arthur finally has Merlin flat out on their hotel bed, the only clothing remaining on Merlin being his unbuttoned tuxedo shirt (one Arthur will be happily paying for as there are a few buttons missing and a tear where one of the more stubborn buttons used to be), he is poised above looking down at his boyfriend, partner, _lover_ , positioned between Merlin's spread legs which seem to have found a comfortable position arched over Arthur's own splayed thighs, both hard with need. The moment the hotel door was slammed shut by the force of Arthur's back being pressed against it, it's been frantic, needy, hungry movements leading them from the door to the bed, but as their eyes meet now, everything from before blurs and suddenly stops being so whirlwind desire, easing into a dawning realization that's been building from the day they met.

"This is it," Arthur states, perhaps cryptically, but as Merlin's eyes widen, Arthur knows Merlin understands too. "I want you, this, what we have, forever, you and me."

Arthur pauses, taking a breath, his desire for Merlin battling his need to admit to Merlin these _feelings_ he is not accustomed to putting into words. "I can't promise everything will be fairytale perfect like Gwen and Lance's _Happily Ever After_ life, but as long as it's us, you and me, that's what I want, that's all I've ever wanted."

Merlin's eyes turn glassy again, and he needs to swallow hard twice (adam's apple bobbing up and down each time), licking his lips in the process, before surging up to capture Arthur's lips in a searing kiss that pulses like a growing surf. It feels desperate, but Arthur knows that's truly not what this is. It's the release of all these feelings, the ones Arthur’s had that have built over the time they've been together, while never really voiced before, have always been there, apparent in every action and every moment they've shared. Days when Arthur would show up on campus after he'd graduated, meeting with Merlin who had been a year behind him, between classes for a quick lunch and a shared moment together because if not _now_ then it wouldn't be until the weekend when they'd see each other again, despite living together. Nights of Merlin waiting up for Arthur, sometimes conscious when he walked into their bedroom and others nights where he found Merlin out cold, class text lost to the floor and laptop fan still whirling while the screensaver cycles. It's every little thing between them, even the arguments and disagreements, the compromises and the not so compromises where they at least agree to disagree. It's everything before, and now, and what's to come that Arthur never knew he wanted, _needed_ , but all the same exactly what he'd been looking for without really knowing.

__

Present

Lance and Gwen barely made it four months before they were announcing their impending parenthood with beaming smiles and oodles of sugary sappiness that had he not already been endeared to the couple Arthur might've become sick with it, but of any of their friends, Arthur knew Lance and Gwen would be the best parents a kid could ever want or wish for. When Lance had commented one evening, “This could be you someday,” Arthur had choked on his beer, receiving a few laughs from their mutual friends and one concerned look from Merlin before shaking his head and returning, "I don't know about that."

Before that moment, Arthur could honestly admit parenthood being the farthest concern from his mind. First off, he was in a very committed relationship with a guy, so an unexpected pregnancy (with or without protection) was something he needn't worry about. Secondly, committed relationship or not, no matter the time they've been together, Merlin and he were still _young_ and getting settled with their careers, Arthur within his father's company and Merlin preparing to teach seven year olds at a local primary school how to read and write and spell and whatever else is required at that level of education. Arthur figured at that stage of their lives _family_ wasn't really a blip on their radar just yet, but then and there, seeing how happy their friends were, Arthur might have started thinking about the _what ifs_ of the future, and was surprised to find those _what ifs_ dramatically changing seven months later when he held his Godson for the first time, barely hours after being born.

__

Five Years Ago

He is a pacing mess in the hospital waiting room, hours after Gwen was wheeled away from him, an equally nervous _father-to-be_ following after nurse and wife, leaving Arthur alone. Gwen isn't due for another three weeks, and while Arthur expected Gwen to be the frightened one between the three of them, she was still the one reassuring both Lance and Arthur saying, _babies have a way of coming when they are ready, early or late_. Her smile was strong and steady, and went a long way in helping Arthur believe that everything was going to be all right, it was the only thing that got him through the drive here, but now, alone in a waiting room with thoughts of his own mother's death so many years ago robbing him of any _normal_ childhood, he can't help the doubt slowly creeping its way back in.

"Arthur?"

Merlin finally arrives a few hours later after classes have let out for the day, Arthur being mindful of Merlin’s new position and insisting he needn't rush over as it could be hours before the _big moment_ , looked about as frazzled as Arthur felt. Arthur makes his way to Merlin and embraces him, arms tight around Merlin's shoulders and it's only then Arthur realizes how bad he’s shaking.

"Hey," Merlin murmurs, returning the embrace around Arthur's waist, the solid comfort Arthur needs in that moment. "Hey, what is this?"

Arthur doesn't pull away just yet, not ready to voice his fears, his _weakness_ , founded or not. He never expected to react this way, but then again, Gwen and Lance are more than simply friends, they are _family_ , and he would move the Earth if he could to ensure their baby was born healthy and without complications.

"Arthur, you're scaring me," Merlin admits, pulling back and scanning over Arthur's face in an attempt to figure out what Arthur can't say. "Is Gwen alright? The baby? What's wrong?"

Arthur shakes his head, pulling away to pace again, organizing his thoughts, his words, before he speaks. "They're fine, at least I think they're fine, I really haven't heard otherwise."

Merlin releases a breath, shoulders relaxing a fraction before walking into Arthur's path to stop him, hands gripping Arthur's shoulders and keeping him at arm's length. "Then what's got you wound so tight?"

"My mother..." Arthur attempts, but can't finish, and instead shakes his head, settling with, "It's stupid, just forget..."

" _Arthur_ ," Merlin begins, but he's cut off by the opening swing of the waiting room door and Lance appearing with a happy, yet slightly dazed smile.

"It's a boy," Lance announces, knees buckling, but both Merlin and Arthur catch their friend and guide him to a hard, plastic, pistachio green chair before his knees hit the floor. "A boy!"

"How's Gwen?"

Lance looks up at Arthur, still beaming but now almost dreamily so. "She's brilliant, just... brilliant, and wonderful, and lovely, and beautiful... and, did I say brilliant?"

Arthur sags into the chair next to Lance, releasing a breath that feels like he'd been holding since they arrived. When he looks up at Merlin, Arthur receives a strange, _curious_ look, but Merlin doesn't say anything else or (thankfully) question Arthur further, turning his attention back to the proud father still grinning like a lovesick fool.

Two hours later, Arthur and Merlin walk into Gwen's room, and as Lance had said, she looks beautiful, actually _glowing_ brighter than she ever did while pregnant, and that alone causes something to shift inside Arthur. When she beckons him over, it's with hesitant steps he approaches, and then he's looking down at the small bundle in her arms, face scrunched in sleep, the most amazing skin coloring, and just... the _cutest_ thing he's ever seen, and all Arthur wants to do is protect him.

"Meet Maximillion Jasper Du Lac," Gwen announces, eyes watery and voice thick, but she looks like the happiest and proudest mother ever in the world.

Arthur doesn't know the first thing about taking care of children let alone a baby, but when Gwen hands off Maximillion into his arms and asks him to be the baby's Godfather, Arthur doesn't hesitate in answering yes, nor can he tear his eyes away from the tiny life sleeping peacefully in his arms. 

"Someone's a bit smitten, I think," Merlin voices, grinning when Arthur meets his eyes from beside him and adds, "you're a natural."

Arthur snorts in disagreement, looking down at his _Godson_ and then back to Merlin. "He's sleeping, it's hardly work, or talent."

"I disagree," Merlin returns, stoking the baby's pudgy cheek and smiling, looking just about as smitten as he claims Arthur to be. "Babies _know_. They can sense your moods. He's obviously comfortable with you because you are comfortable with him."

"You think you're so smart."

Merlin grins, bumping shoulders with Arthur as they both watch Maximillion sleep. "Do you ever think about this?"

"No," Arthur answers honestly, not feeling guilty, but quickly realizing it's not the whole truth, especially when Merlin basically deflates before his eyes, because if there is one thing Arthur does know, it's that Merlin will make a great father some day, and thus he needs to clarify. "I mean before, no."

"And now?" Merlin inquires, perking up hopefully.

"I might not be so adverse to the idea as I was before."

__

Present

Not being _so adverse_ to the idea of becoming a father was still a long way off from being ready to face midnight feedings and play-dates, hours of being unable to console a screaming baby and the constant worrying of whether he's doing a good job, and couldn't even come close to preparing Arthur for what the future held for them. Hell, even after his first moments with Max, he and Merlin never did sit down and discuss the so-called _future_ and whether children would play a part in it for him, for _them_. Maybe it was because they still considered themselves young and settling into the lifestyle of being practically newlyweds. Whether it'd been a year or three (eight years for them even now), there were still arguments and nasty blow-out rows which resulted in the most fantastic and mind-blowing make-up sex anyone could ever desire, but that came part and parcel with the territory of married life. Maybe it was the fact Arthur was still expecting Merlin to walk out one day, fed up with Arthur's stubbornness and need to always please his father. Regardless of the reasoning, it wasn't a pressing matter to Arthur because they still had time, in his opinion, to discuss the future, and he'd been more than content with the way things were. He loved Merlin, no matter what, and figured whatever the future held, good or bad, they would weather through it, facing it all together, because _together_ , they could do _anything_.

__

Four Years Ago

Arthur is in a fowl mood as he makes his way from his father's office towards his own, prominent scowl on his face and eyes focused on the one corner in the entire building (company really) that feels like his own. No matter that he shares his last name with not only the company's owner and Chief Officer, but the company itself, nothing is really _his_ , not even his own office, but the respect he's earned from direct employees at least garners him a sense of ownership as they respect the four walls when he needs them to, like now. Arthur shuts his office door, a bit rougher than necessary given it's not constructed of lead but glass, momentarily surprised the pane doesn't shatter with the force alone. It's turning out to be _one of those days_ where regardless of how hard he tries, nothing seems to be going right.

The day began with an alarm that didn't go off as planned, he having forgotten to actually switch it on, and thus he takes his frustration toward himself out on Merlin before his husband is even coherent enough to defend himself or give back as good as he received. He called Merlin after arriving at work (an hour late) to apologize for his abhorrent behavior only for his call (calls really, five total) to go straight into voicemail. He leaves a message each time, all expressing his regret and a smidge of groveling for good measure, and Arthur is just finishing the final message, before the mandatory morning meeting called by his father is set to begin, when the department's summer intern delivers his presentation reports for the meeting, printed on pink paper, _and_ in comic-sans font.

"What the hell is this?" Arthur barks out, picking up the top bundle and flicking it back down. "Last I checked, this isn't a company run by fourteen year-old _girls_!"

His tone, let alone his words, does little to hide his building frustration over the incompetence of the department's latest intern. How the university student has lasted this long, Arthur can only chock up to Merlin's influence of always trying to see the good in everyone, and Merlin's belief that all should be given a chance, sometimes _time and again_ , to prove themselves and improve, as Arthur is repeatedly reminded, _how else do you think we got together?_

"I'll take care of this, Gilli," his secretary, Elena, says by way of taking charge, entering his office on Gilli's heels as if knowing there will be some sort of cleanup required, and if any of them are going to last the day, she is going to have to take the reins and diffuse what she can for her boss's sake, and the company in general.

Gilli swiftly takes his leave, as if Elena _is_ the boss around here and has the last say, but he can't blame the kid for high-tailing it out when Arthur's gut just wants to fire the kid on the spot, _again_. The last thing he needs is to make a fool of himself, and thus the company, at the meeting in front of his father. Arthur doesn't even know how the pages sitting on his desk are pink. Who has a stock of pink paper in this company anyway? 

"There isn't time enough to fix this," Arthur wearily states, indicating the stack of reports for the meeting attendees. "Aside from magic, and we both know my father's stance on that..."

Pendragon Holdings is one of the last companies holding out on integrating magic users into its workforce. Arthur never understood his father's prejudice against those who had the ability to harness and use magic, especially when such abilities could give a person, or more precisely _company_ , a leg up on the competition. Then again, Arthur doesn't think he will ever completely understand his father's beliefs on anything and has long since given up trying. It is only government pressure pushing Uther Pendragon’s hand to lift the hiring ban towards magic users, hence the meeting today, but Pendragon Holdings still has a long way to go.

"Between you and me," Elena offers, taking a seat across from Arthur. "I think it's magic that turned the paper pink in the first place."

Arthur sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose. It does little to relieve the building pressure. Of course, ban or no ban, there probably are undeclared magic users already employed by Pendragon Holdings. What Uther doesn't know... Well, it's inevitable for there to be magic users already here. It's rather amusing the things Arthur has turned a blind eye to that Uther seems oblivious of. His father may be a tyrant, but his father is a fool in his denial, and go figure they've got at least one magic user who seems to prefer their paper _pink_.

"Come on, it's not so bad. I happen to like it!"

Arthur snorts a laugh, shaking his head. "Of course _you_ would, but the executive officers are not made up of people as _free-spirited_ as yourself, or understanding as me, a fact I morn each time I have a meeting with them."

"Could you imagine your father's face? Monthly reports on pastel paper, possibly with unicorns in the margins. I bet I could have them scented as well. It would be brilliant just to ruffle his nerves a bit," Elena cackles when she laughs, something that surprisingly doesn't annoy Arthur in the slightest, and he can't help wanting to see a _ruffled_ Uther Pendragon as well.

In the end, it is a stack of pink-colored reports Elena hands out to the attendees with a smile. An arched eyebrow and disapproving scowl is sent Arthur's way, a sure sign he and his father will be having words later about this, something that will end up with it all being _Merlin's_ fault, because everything _wrong_ with Arthur now-a-days is always boiled down to the _changes_ in Arthur his father has seen since Arthur began dating Merlin. Arthur sighs, looking down at his copy of the pink monstrosity, before taking a deep breath and bringing the meeting on magic integration within Pendragon Holdings to order, already knowing no matter how flawless his presentation is, nothing will forgive the lackadaisical preparations, especially given the seriousness of the meeting's subject matter. 

When Arthur's phone vibrates five minutes in, he ignores the call, choosing to push through and hopefully earn back some of the respect lost at the hands of an intern, but after thirty minutes and five ignored calls, when the sixth comes in and goes to voicemail, he decides to pull his cell phone out to check his missed calls during the video presentation. 

_Merlin._

_Merlin._

_Merlin._

_Gwen._

_Gwen._

_Gaius._

Arthur quickly steps outside the boardroom, ignoring his father's disapproving eyes as they follow each step, but Arthur could truly care less because deep down he knows, just _knows_ , something's wrong and judging by the call successions, something is wrong with Merlin, and if he ever had to choose between Merlin and Pendragon Holdings, there’s no question that his choice would always be Merlin.

Arthur barely steps foot out the boardroom, preparing to redial Gaius when he's met by a flustered Elena who looks more panicked than he’s ever seen before.

"It's Merlin," she blurts out, grasping his wrist and pulling him along away from the meeting. Elena takes a moment to breathe before adding, "He's been taken to hospital."

__

Present

A million scenarios whirled through his head in that moment: car crash even though Merlin chooses to walk or take the tube everywhere if Arthur isn't driving; speaking of the train, train derailment; Merlin going one better at being a _Good Samaritan_ and getting attacked either by fists, knife or gun; being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the corner store or bank, during a robbery gone sour. The list went on and on, and thankfully Elena had the presence of mind to hire a car as Arthur can’t say how he would have made it across town in one piece otherwise, but no matter what his mind came up with, no matter his imagination, nothing, _nothing_ , could come close to the reality he had been about to face.

__

Four Years Ago

Arthur is a mess by the time the car pulls up to the looming medical building. No one would have been wise to the turmoil emotions coursing within of course, he having learned from the best how to mask his true feelings, but anyone who truly _knew_ Arthur would be able to detect the small signs of his distress nonetheless: his knee that would not cease in its nervous up and down twitch; his bottom lip receiving a brutal chewing the likes he's never dealt before; and dear God his eyes wouldn't settle, flicking around the small confines of the car's backseat, feeling as if there isn't enough room to stretch or air to breathe. In the time it's taken to get here from the office he's come to the conclusion of one very important fact: he doesn't know what he would do if anything happened to Merlin, now or ever. The truth is, Arthur's father is right. Arthur _has_ changed since Merlin entered his life, but where his father is wrong is that Merlin hasn't made Arthur weaker, but more a stronger and _better_ person, one who before _had_ been on track to becoming a mirror image of his tyrant father, but now is determined to be the man Merlin sees, the man Merlin has always known he could be.

"Merlin Pendragon!" Arthur pretty much barks at the unassuming, rather innocent woman sitting behind the admittance desk, but the woman doesn't have a chance to respond as he's being called from the other side of the waiting area.

"Arthur!" Gwen reaches him in a few strides, offering an apologetic smile to the woman, and taking his arm to lead him away. "He's fine Arthur, Merlin's fine."

Arthur stops abruptly, giving Gwen an incredulous glare, along with some heated words. "Gwen, pardon my skepticism in that statement. Merlin's here, in hospital, that hardly speaks of a person being _fine_!"

Gwen has the grace to admit her wrong choice of words, ducking her head in guilt, which Arthur feels bad for. He understands what she's trying to say, attempting to reassure that his world isn't coming to an end, but it isn't until Arthur can see for himself Merlin is alright that he will believe everything is going to be okay.

"I'm sorry," Arthur apologizes, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a few deep breaths before continuing. "I know you're only trying to help. I'm sorry..."

"It's alright, Arthur, I understand," Gwen assures, touching his arm, dragging his hand down and offering a supportive smile. "Merlin is going to be okay, though. They're just going to keep him a day, or so, you know, make sure everything's alright."

"What happened? What's wrong?"

At the questions, Gwen literally clams up, whether it's because she knows and doesn't want to say, or is just about as clueless as he, he can't tell, but her answer clears everything up.

"I believe it best if Merlin explained everything."

"Where is he?"

Gwen leads Arthur through a set of doors into the emergency area where he's reminded again of how much he hates hospitals. He can't say he's had bad experiences with them, the one most memorable isn't even a real memory for him since it was the day he was born, and the day his mother died, but still to this day, if he can avoid hospital visits by sending flowers, he does.

"I'll leave you," Gwen states as they come to a stop outside a curtained off cubical, hand patting his arm in sympathy he doesn't understand. The sadness he's never seen before in her eyes makes him swallow hard against the lump in his throat.

Arthur watches Gwen walk back the way they came, feeling numb and inadequate and fearful of what he will find behind the curtain, which is ridiculous really, seeing as it's only _Merlin_ , _only_... only the most important person in his life, but even rationally knowing that doesn't quell his fear. There's a tremor in his raised hand as Arthur pulls back the curtain, but all his fears and anxiety, everything he’s feeling seems to slip away the moment his eyes settle on Merlin, curled up in an impossible ball on the bed. How all those long limbs can be compacted into such a small space is beyond comprehension, but speaks volumes of Merlin's own fear and anxiety and _pain_ that makes Arthur's own pale in comparison.

__

Present

It is important to understand, to anyone who hears the story of how Merlin and Arthur got to this point in their lives, that up until that moment in emergency, Merlin feeling a pain Arthur to this day has never _fully_ experienced (thank God), Arthur was completely unaware of just how different and _special_ Merlin was then and still _is_ to this day. Oh, he knew Merlin was pretty much one of a kind, Arthur having never met anyone like Merlin before or after, but there was still so much more to the man he loved he had yet to learn at that point.

It is also important to note, no matter his reactions (which are usually without thought and sometimes a bit explosive), he has never, _never_ , hated those who practiced magic. How else is Gilli still employed by Pendragon Holdings to this day? Granted, the younger man has since learned to _control_ his abilities, not that a wayward pink memo doesn't cross Arthur's desk still now and again, but with the changes Arthur's father began while still heading the company, and that Arthur continues to push and ensures to this day are adhered to now that he is at the company's helm, Gilli and all the other magic practicing employees have been able to relax and stretch their abilities not only for their own betterment, but the company as a whole.

It is important to understand that Arthur is not _perfect_.

__

Four Years Ago

"Merlin?" Arthur quietly calls out, stepping through the parted curtains, startling Merlin if the shoulder flinch, and muffled sob are any indication. " _Merlin_..."

Arthur attempts to take hold of Merlin's hand, but Merlin easily slips away, turning over, a gasp escaping as if the movement pained him, and returns to his balled up position.

"Merlin," Arthur sighs in exasperation and mild bit of relief at Merlin’s own stubbornness, settling a hand within the strands of Merlin's dark mop of hair, stroking, _soothing_ , what he doesn't know needs mending. "Please, talk to me."

They are quiet a while, Merlin's breaths stuttering and shuttering at first, but as Arthur continues carding through Merlin’s hair, not pushing, _waiting_ , the rise and fall of Merlin's shoulder evens out, and eventually a hand reaches up over Merlin’s shoulder. Arthur immediately takes hold with his other hand. The death grip he's served is only mildly painful, but he makes no comment or complaint, only holds a little tighter as he waits.

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispers, the softness and hesitance in his voice barley making it audible, but Arthur knows Merlin, knows to listen closely and hears all the same.

"Hey, there's nothing you need to apologize for..." Merlin shakes his head adamantly, rolling over, not fully but enough so they make eye contact, the tears pooling in them making Arthur's stomach churn.

"You don't know... I wanted to tell you... But I couldn't... and then… I didn't know! You have to believe me, I didn't know this could happen," Merlin's words end with an insistent tone, he taking hold of Arthur's one hand with both of his own now, as Merlin struggles to roll back over towards Arthur. "I didn't know..."

"Hey, hey," Arthur begins, adding some shushing noises as he wipes away Merlin's tears. "Come now, you're scaring me. What's going on? What happened this morning?"

"I... I have... Arthur, _God_ , I have magic," Merlin states, voice choking out at the end, and all Arthur feels in that moment is a sudden burst of betrayal, not for the fact that Merlin practices magic but that his partner, his _husband_ , has kept it a secret all this time and never saw fit to tell him.

Arthur slips his hand free, trying hard to ignore the quiver clearly visible in Merlin's lips as Merlin tries to keep hold. "What?"

"Arthur, please, there's more..."

"More! You've kept this from me, been practicing magic behind my back, and now..."

"I don't practice..."

"Merlin, you just said..."

"I said I _have_ magic, I don't..."

"Have, practice, what's the difference, you still lied..."

"I _never_ lied," Merlin grits out, flopping over on his back before moaning in pain, adding in a weak voice, "I never..."

"Omission of the truth is all the same, _Mer_ lin," Arthur returns angrily. "What I don't understand is why? Why were you keeping this part of you from me? You're my husband for God's sake. I thought I knew you..."

Merlin's hand shoots out, grabbing his own in an even more bruising hold. "You _do_ know me, Arthur. I'm still Merlin. I'm no different, but your father... He already hates me, thinks I'm not good enough for his _only son_ , and that's not knowing that his son is married to _one of them_. I just couldn't..."

Merlin's eyes drop then, looking ashamed, as if Merlin is now no longer Arthur's equal, as if Merlin believes Arthur now sees him as his own father would, and that alone knocks Arthur's anger down a few pegs.

"You couldn't what?" Arthur prods, not quite ready to forgive, but still trying to understand.

When Merlin meets his eyes again, they are filled with more than just physical pain, but also misery and desperation of hope that Arthur somehow feels himself. Hope that whatever has happened won't have the ability to tear them apart. Hope that even though this might change everything, it won't really change everything they have, won’t change _them_.

"I couldn't tell you. I wanted to, every day, but I never wanted to put you in that position." Arthur must have a confused look about him, because Merlin then adds, "I never wanted to put you in a position of choosing between your family and… _me_."

Arthur's heart breaks a little then, realizing just how much Merlin loves him, and how much Merlin was willing to sacrifice for Arthur's father, who doesn't really deserve that kind of mindful respect. It hurts Arthur to realize Merlin didn’t seem to think of himself as part of Arthur’s said _family_. God, in that moment Arthur himself doesn't even feel worthy of having Merlin in his life, but Arthur vows to find some way of making it up to him. He vows to prove that he loves Merlin just as much, and would do anything, even if it means standing up to his father, defending Merlin and standing by him to the end.

"I was going to tell you tonight," Merlin continues, sucking in a breath, another wave of pain Arthur recognizes when Merlin's focus blurs as it comes and goes. "I was going to tell you _everything_..."

Merlin rolls back over to his other side, presenting his back to Arthur as he curls up into a ball of pain again. Any fight Arthur might have been holding onto is gone, because all he wants in the world is to take all that pain away from Merlin. If he could, Arthur would take it on himself, but instead he climbs onto the bed and wraps himself around his husband, offering protection that is useless, and praying whatever's wrong ends soon. He prays to have his happy, and beautiful, and optimistic Merlin back, and that this night becomes a far distant memory.

Their quiet is interrupted by the startled sound a nurse makes, entering their curtained off corner of the world. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, not seeming to mind him being there, or curled around her patient, as she smiles sadly at them. "I just wanted to let you know they'll be coming for you in a few minutes."

"Are they moving him to a room?" Arthur asks, arms tightening around Merlin.

"No, sir, he's scheduled for..."

"Th-Thank you," Merlin says in a cracked voice, hand rising to wave the nurse off as he struggles to turn over again, Arthur helping as much as he can. "Arthur, we don't have much time..."

"Oh God, you're not..." The word _dying_ won't leave his mouth, he can't allow it, but it's more than apparent the first thought that springs to mind.

"No, Arthur," Merlin insists, chastely kissing his mouth, and shaking his head repeating, "No."

"What is it then? What's going on?"

"I haven't been right this last month, feeling right. Actually, more than a month, but I thought... I didn't really know what I thought. I made an appointment with Gaius last week and he said," Merlin pauses then, as if steeling himself for what he's about to reveal, and Arthur can do nothing but wait, unable to imagine what could possibly be even harder to tell him than the secret that's already been revealed. "He confirmed what I suspected after I had done a little research. I was pregnant."

"You're..."

Merlin smiles sadly at him, nodding but then following it up with a shake of his head.

"Merlin..." Merlin's fingers covering his mouth halts anything else he was going to say, as do the tears threatening to spill from Merlin's eyes again, and like a sucker punch, as quickly as the unexpected hope bloomed, it's taken away.

" _Was_."

__

Present

Arthur watches over Merlin and Max again, Max still going strong ordering his _dragon_ around, and Merlin looking just as happy and full of energy as he obeys each command. Merlin is in his element with Max, any kid really, indulging the five-year-old's imagination (while exercising a bit of his own), a prime example of how great a teacher Merlin is and how amazing a father Merlin could be. There was never a doubt in Arthur's mind of Merlin and fatherhood being a perfect match. Merlin may not have grown up knowing his father, but the nurturing influence and love Hunith bestowed upon her only child more than made up for the lack of a strong male presence. It was Merlin's strength and determination Arthur leaned on after the first miscarriage, not only to absorb and adjust to all the changes caused by Merlin revealing his magic (no matter how novice and untrained his ability was) but to push forward, and with encouragement from Gaius, to actually, _knowingly_ , try again once both he and Merlin accepted the fact that Merlin's magic could make something literally impossible, a reality for them.

__

Three Years Ago

It's early on a Saturday morning, a morning that neither Merlin nor Arthur are required to be awake as there is no work to attend, but they both are nonetheless, Arthur alone in their bed listening to the sounds of Merlin retching in their adjoining bathroom. Merlin's woken up each and every morning for the past two weeks like this, saying little word about it, assuming Arthur's slept through the early morning bouts of sickness, but that is far from the truth. Arthur is usually awake from the moment Merlin crawls out of bed until he returns, slipping back in ever so carefully Arthur doesn't have the heart to make his awareness known. Usually after Merlin returns to bed, cozying up next to Arthur, body not so much shivering but shaking, Arthur fakes shifting in his sleep and wraps himself around Merlin's smaller, almost fragile frame. They stay like that until the alarms go off, or on the weekend Arthur waits for Merlin to drift back to sleep before following suite, but today there will be a break in routine that's gone far too long.

Merlin's been in the bathroom approximately ten minutes being sick. Arthur's heard the toilet flush twice and the sound of running water while Merlin brushed his teeth. He sees the light flick off through the crack near the floor before the door opens, and watches Merlin's shadowed figure make its way to the bed, again slipping in ever so carefully so as not to wake Arthur. It's the silence, the keeping secrets, that hurts Arthur most because all he wants to do is support and protect his husband, _be there_ for Merlin and he can't if he doesn't know what's going on, but knowing Merlin as well as he does, Arthur also understands the silence, the uncertainty, the fear his husband is feeling. He's feeling it too.

"Hey," Arthur murmurs against Merlin's neck after wrapping his arm around Merlin and pulling him back against his chest. There's no missing the stiffening of Merlin's muscles, nor the startled gasp that is more a squeak than anything else. "Everything okay?"

The question is unnecessary when they both know there's no point in evading the truth any longer. It's been a year since the miscarriage. A year of struggling to accept Merlin’s hidden truths and understanding the whys behind Merlin not being fully open with Arthur. A year of going to battle against his father who is now even more convinced that Merlin can't be trusted due to his magic, and even more useless since he can't even _control his own abilities_. A year of deciding if having children in their lives, or more precise _bearing_ them, is the way they want to start a family, or should they look to other routes like surrogacy or adoption. Arthur left that decision in Merlin's hands, a decision he didn't know which option Merlin would choose until one night, when he was reaching into the bedside drawer for a bottle of lube and condom but was stopped from making a trip to the bathroom when the drawer turned up empty of condoms. He would have accepted any child they brought into their home, but until that split second, Arthur hadn't realized how much he wanted not just a family with Merlin, but their own children, a little bit of Merlin and a little bit of Arthur all wrapped up in a perfect little bundle they would protect with their lives and love with all their being. 

"Ye-Yeah," Merlin finally answers, voice wobbly, but strong, actually convincing and reassuring.

They remain like that, Arthur wrapped around Merlin, breath ghosting lightly over the side of Merlin's neck, and Merlin's finger tracing patterns across Arthur's forearms. They're teetering a precipice, both fearing the wrong step sending them tumbling down a craggy slope, nor knowing how to navigate the safer pathway. Is there even a right step here? Or are they setting themselves up to fail?

"I'm going to see Gaius on Monday," Merlin says, voice even and conversational. "It's more for formality, you know..."

Arthur tightens his hold, one hand absently splaying against Merlin's flat stomach, needing the contact as much as Merlin in that moment. Merlin covers Arthur's hand with his own, fingers trembling as Arthur grabs hold of them.

"What if... What if... " Merlin's words trail off, his worry, fear, _trepidation_ , unspoken, but apparent all the same.

"Merlin, no matter what, I'll be here for you. Through the good and the bad, in sickness and health, until the end of time. It's you and me against all the odds. Together, there isn't anything we can't face."

Oddly, or not so oddly, for his trouble, Merlin snorts, and had it been any other moment, or any other person, Arthur might have been more than a bit put off, but this is Merlin, and _them_ , and he already knows what Merlin is thinking.

_Stupid, soppy, Prat._

__

Present

They never did tell anyone about the second pregnancy until after, other than Gaius, and in hindsight, Arthur knows it was for the best. They had been waiting, Arthur isn't quite certain what they’d been waiting for, Merlin to start showing, the actual birth, just waiting. Needless to say, Merlin's second pregnancy ended the same as the first, except this time Merlin had made it to four months along before Arthur came home one evening to find him curled on the floor of their kitchen sobbing in pain. He moved on instinct that evening, all thought and concern and urgency focused on Merlin. It wasn’t until Merlin was settled in his hospital room for the night that the reality of their loss finally settled. With every day that had passed, their hope had risen, but even with their rising hope there was still skepticism hiding in the depths of their subconscious. In the beginning, Arthur always thought it was that skepticism that jinxed them, but Gaius had lectured them time and again that _these things do happen_ , and while logically Arthur understood that clearly, he didn’t understand why _these things_ had to keep happening to _them_.

Arthur is distracted from his somber thoughts by a not so quiet yawn. Max's energy is waning as he rounds the corner of the couch with his dragon following behind, but as with any kid, the boy is resolutely stubborn and won't give up the ghost just yet although he's rubbing at his eyes. Merlin catches Arthur watching them, shooting him a grin and wink, both knowing Max's afternoon nap is just around the corner. Arthur returns the smile, happy, truly and utterly happy that the shadows that had once clouded Merlin’s bright eyes, and the pain that had shrouded Merlin’s perpetual optimism no longer weigh his husband down. 

“Another ten minutes,” Merlin whispers against his mouth, placing a chaste kiss there while continuing in chase of Max. 

Arthur laughs, with a slight shake of his head. Truth be told, he could watch them play all day, smiling, laughing, enjoying every minute of every day, because they’ve had far too much loss in their lives to miss out on all the good there is, all the happiness there is and can be now. They’ve come a long way.

__

Two Year Ago

Arthur doesn’t know how many people he’s thanked, hugged, and offered what he assumes is the most unconvincing smile judging by the sad smiles he receives in return that almost look like grimaces on those who are merely _acquaintances_ rather than close friends. His face feels stiff, forcing the countenance people want to see of a strong and unaffected business man, teeth clenched and jaw sore, repressing the rage building inside. It is only Morgana, Gwen and Lance’s presence keeping his head about, each steering people away from Arthur now and again when they catch the _save me_ look in his eyes as another person takes too long offering condolences that do little to appease the growing ache in his chest.

“Mr. Odin, I thought that was you,” Morgana easily interrupts, hooking an arm with the middle-aged man who has close ties to their father and Pendragon Holdings, a man both Morgana and Arthur have learned not to trust in their time working for the company. “Mr. Bayard was just asking about you…”

Morgana leads the older man off in the direction of one of the exterior rooms, leaving Arthur to breathe a sigh of relief that isn’t much relief, but he is able to breathe a bit easier nonetheless.

“How you holding up?” Lance inquires, taking up position in front of Arthur, shielding him from the eyes of other attendees.

“Can we send everyone away now?” 

“We can do whatever you want,” Lance returns seriously and completely not what Arthur expected from the most polite man, excluding Merlin, Arthur has ever known.

Arthur snorts. “Liar.”

Lance’s serious expression doesn’t waiver. “If you tell me to clear everyone out, it’s a matter showing them the door.”

“I appreciate that, I really do,” Arthur says, resting a hand on Lance’s crossed arms. “But it wouldn’t look right…”

“Fuck propriety, Arthur, I only care about you and Merlin.”

Arthur rubs his eyes, a headache pulsing behind them which has gradually intensified as the morning and early afternoon have progressed. When he opens them again, it is to see his father over Lance’s shoulder making his way towards them. Arthur’s stomach knots at the sight of his father’s grim face, but he forces his spine a little taller, his shoulders straight, preparing for whatever it is his father has to offer, wanting Merlin by his side but knowing whatever his father has to say wouldn’t be anything Merlin needs (or is prepared) to hear right now.

“Lance, it’s good to see you,” Urther greets upon approach, hand clasping Lance’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze, as if _this_ is just another gathering of fellow business and family acquaintances. “Arthur.”

Arthur nods toward his father, but doesn’t say anything further, the quiet between them tense. Bless Lance for staying his ground, because if there is anything he needs right now it’s a friend in his corner.

“Where’s Merlin?”

Arthur clenches his teeth.

“Merlin is…” Lance begins only to be interrupted by Uther.

“I was speaking to my son. Arthur?”

“I’m actually surprised you’re here, _Dad_ ,” Arthur returns, instead of answering his father’s question, knowing his father could careless about his husband based on his father’s _distaste_ of Merlin and the whole _male pregnancy_ , something that was never sugar coated.

“Son, where else would I be?” Uther tries for sincerity, but only achieves mild annoyance at being questioned. “It’s more than I can say for…”

“The question is, are you here to support us, or to tell me I told you so, _again_?”

“Arthur…”

“He’s not here, alright!” Arthur yells, drawing the attention of everyone at the funeral home against his own wishes. “Merlin’s… he’s not here!”

“I see.” It’s obviously not the answer Uther wanted to hear, judging by the look of disappointment it brings. “Well you’d think he would be man enough to attend his own son’s funeral.”

“Mr. Pendragon…”

“Fuck you, Dad, just… Fuck you.”

Arthur is done then. He walks straight through the main room, straight passed all the concerned and startled faces, straight out the doors and to his car, which is where Lance finds him minutes later, hands shaking because he’s dropped his keys three times and can’t seem to get the damn key in the lock. He really wants to throttle his father, and perhaps rage a little at Merlin for leaving him to do this alone, but all he ends up doing is forgetting about his keys and nearly collapsing to his knees in grief because in that moment, the weakened flood gates rush open against his stubborn will.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Lance is saying, strong arms wrapping around Arthur before his knees hit pavement.

Arthur clings to his best friend as sobs rack his chest and gasps rush against Lance’s neck, no longer able to hold back the emotions he’s been keeping in check and denying himself since the birth of his son, and subsequent death. It’s very _un-Pendragon-like_ , so his father would claim, but at the moment Arthur feels so far removed from his father he doesn’t really give a flying fuck.

Lance eventually drives him home, claiming Arthur’s in no fit state to navigate the roads, and for once he isn’t one to argue the point. He sits in the passenger seat, staring out the side window not really seeing anything, feeling drained and numb, and so far out of his element, he doesn’t know how they are going to fix _them_ once the dust has settled. He doesn’t even know how they are supposed to move on from here.

When the car is brought up to the house, Lance offers to see Arthur in, but Arthur turns him down, knowing the last thing Merlin needs is someone else fretting about the place, worrying over him, especially when Merlin is far from ready to deal with their loss, the main reason his husband did not attend the services. Thankfully, Lance accepts Arthur’s wishes, probably knowing Merlin just as well as he does, but Lance does wait until Arthur is in the house before driving back to the funeral home to clean up whatever mess Arthur’s left behind.

The house is quiet and dark, aside from what light is coming in through the closed curtains. A cursory walk about the first floor reveals no sign of Merlin, so Arthur ascends the stairs to the second level in hopes of locating his husband, fairly certain he knows exactly where he will find Merlin, the only question being in what emotional state Merlin will be. The last Arthur saw of his husband before leaving for the service, Merlin was sitting in the bathtub, water nearly to the lip with the full-grown man submerged within, knees drawn up with arms wrapped around. The water should have long gone cold but something (Arthur assumes Merlin’s _magic_ ) was keeping the water from going frigid. The last thing Arthur wanted to do was leave Merlin alone in this state, but plans had been set and the ceremony needed to be attended by at least one of the mourning parents, and so he placed a kiss on Merlin’s forehead, reminded Merlin how much he loved him, and that he would return as soon as he could.

Turns out as soon as his could wasn’t soon enough, not for Arthur, and definitely not for Merlin either.

The nursery, when they had finished it, turned out pretty magnificent if Arthur did say so himself. Granted they received much grief from their friends over the clichéd theme of _Arthurian Legend_ , but what else would have worked for the son of Arthur and Merlin Pendragon? What better way to draw out a child’s imagination than to create an enchanted world of Dragons and Knights, of a noble King and his loyal Warlock? The walls were fantastic murals of forest and a grand castle (thanks to Merlin’s childhood friend Will), the ceiling full of blue skies, white clouds, and stars that popped out when the lights turned off. All the furniture was dark wood, and of course there were buckets of woodland creature stuffed animals, real and mystical alike. It was perfect really, something they both poured their hearts into once the decision had been made, and the only place he expected to find Merlin, but when he opens the door the sight before him is the last he ever expected.

The once _perfect_ and pristine nursery that was prepared to receive their newborn _prince_ was now left in shambles, more than shambles really, like a whirlwind spun its contents (furniture and toys alike) around and dropped everything wherever it pleased once it was through. It’s the destruction to the walls (they are blank grey now, as if the previous greens and browns that made up the forests mixed with the creams and blues that made up the castle and sky) that keys Arthur into what actually took place, that it wasn’t Merlin physically but his out of control _magic_. In the middle of the mess is Merlin, hands shaking and muttering berating words through gasps of breath, seeming to attempt cleaning up, oblivious to the fact that across the room, his magic is still trying to work against him if the rocking chair rattling on its side is any indication. 

“M-Merlin.” Arthur’s voice catches on his husband’s name, the sound breaking the atmosphere and causing Merlin to flinch and the rocking chair to slide across the floor making a loud crack as it slams against the wall. 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispers, sounding more broken than Arthur has ever heard anyone before, as if those two words, no matter how much they are meant can’t come close to being enough, even when they are unnecessary nor wanted. Even when all Arthur wants is to say them right back.

__

Present

The few short months of Merlin’s third trimester were probably some of the happiest, most excitingly anticipated moments of their lives. All the worry and fears clouding their day to day routines gradually eased away with each passing day, minute, hour really, as each hurdle was cleared providing hope that this time, _this time_ , they would make it to the finish, and that everything was going to be okay. It’s not like there still weren’t days in those last months where their fears didn’t pop up now and again, but that was to be expected, wasn’t it? Some acquaintances, like Arthur’s employees and Merlin’s fellow teachers, never understood why they waited so long to prepare the nursery, always asking about a theme that didn’t exist and frowning deeper and deeper as the months ticked by with no further insight. They’re friends and family were a different story though, understanding their hesitance and feet dragging, and never pushed them with reminders about waiting too long, or there not being enough time. All they ever did was patiently wait, patiently support, and when the day finally came where Arthur called them up, requesting their help because they were three weeks out from Merlin’s due date and they needed to get the nursery in order, they all dropped whatever they were doing and pitched in to help. It took a full weekend plus one day of very little sleep to get everything settled, the men of their group (Lance, Gwaine, Will, Percy and Leon) in charge of all manual labor, while the women (Gwen, Elena, Morgana and of course Hunith) along with Merlin taking care of all the necessities such as nappies and clothing and bottles and blankets and whatever else he hadn’t a clue of what they really needed but had better have if they planned on being at least adequate in their parenting.

 _You’ll take to it like nothing_ Hunith had assured him once, something to this day he doesn’t believe, but he still smiled and thanked her all the same, while over her shoulder Merlin smiled just as nervously as Arthur felt, but her faith in the him, in _them_ , is probably the only thing that kept them going some days.

Then the world was pulled out from under them with Merlin going into labor two weeks too soon. At the time Arthur remembered the day of Max’s birth, how Gwen had stated, _babies have a way of coming when they are ready, early or late_ , but Arthur had a hard time relaxing this time, because this time it was Merlin and their baby, their _son_ , and the last thing either of them needed was for something to go wrong. No matter how nervous and terrified Arthur was, the front he held firm for Merlin’s benefit alone was complete confidence tinged with a small spot of _soon-to-be-dad_ nervousness. He held onto that through it all, through all the pain, and all the tears, and even beyond the silent birth of their son, even while his heart was breaking into a million pieces, because his pain couldn’t even compare to what Merlin was going through. The night of their son’s birth and too soon death was not the end, but the beginning of where they find themselves today.

__

One Year Ago

“Out!” Elena’s voice is stern as she makes her way around Arthur’s desk, swiveling his laptop to face her while saving and closing out the document he’d been working on.

“Elena!”

“Out! Out! Out!” Elena repeats, snapping the machine shut, easily disconnecting the power cord and lifting it off the desk to take with her.

“Elena, what are you….”

“Arthur, the entire office’s gone for the night. It’s high time you join the lot of commuters,” Elena says, cutting him off. “I’m sure Merlin would like to see…”

Arthur cuts Elena’s _optimistic_ ramble off with a derisive snort. “I hardly think Merlin would notice, now give me back…”

“No Arthur,” Elena protests, keeping a firm grip on the laptop as Arthur tries wrestling it back. “You need to go home.”

“Last I checked, I was the boss, and you the assistant,” Arthur argues back, his hold on the laptop not loosening. “Go home, Elena, and leave me…”

“Alone? I don’t think so.” Elena yanks hard, Arthur losing his grip of the machine. “I’ve left _you_ alone for far too long. You need to go _home_ , Arthur.”

“Home,” Arthur laughs, and even to him it sounds pathetic. “Do you even know how long it’s been since I’ve been _home_? Do you, Elena?”

Her eyes widen. “Don’t tell me you’ve been staying here at night? For how long, Arthur? Wait, you’re never here when I arrive? Where do you hide? I think I’d have noticed otherwise…”

Arthur sighs heavily and collapses onto the couch lining the far wall. In the last year Arthur feels like he’s aged ten, maybe even twenty times that, and with each passing day he finds himself further and further away from Merlin. 

“Whether I’m here, or at home, it’s all the same, _silence_. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a conversation with Merlin? It’s been six months. Six months since he walked out of our _couples therapy_ , appointments I am still going to twice a week _alone_ , because _there’s nothing wrong_ , but there is something wrong only my husband refuses to admit it and the harder I push, the further away he gets, so I stopped pushing, and I keep going to _our_ meetings and we don’t talk. He sleeps in the guest room and I…” Arthur pauses a moment, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I sleep on the couch because the bed’s too big...”

Arthur refuses to cry in front of Elena, no matter how much his eyes sting, or how tight his chest feels, or how painfully his head pounds, or how much he’s finally admitted out loud to someone else how a wreck his marriage is, and how at a loss he feels at being able to fix it.

“Oh Arthur,” Elena coos ( _coos_!), slumping next to him on the couch and wrapping a soothing arm around his shoulders. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

Arthur sniffle-snorts, _not crying_ , as he rests his head on Elena’s shoulder. “No one does, not really. I mean Gwen and Lance know something’s not quite right, but they keep their distance, mind our privacy…”

“Arthur,” Elena begins quietly, one hand taking his. “You do know what day it is, yeah?”

“Wednesday,” Arthur’s reply is monotone and mater-of-fact, and just prays she will let this go, forget his breakdown and leave him be, at least one more day, one more night.

“No, _Arthur_ , it’s been a year… _today_.”

And all Arthur can think in that moment is, _Fuck_ , as all the fight in him dissolves into begrudging acceptance of what he can no longer ignore or avoid, even as unconscious as it might have been. 

When he arrives home thirty minutes later, a year to the day Samuel Lucas Pendragon died, Arthur hasn’t a clue what to expect. Actually, that’s untrue, he’s more than aware there will be silence, as there has been every other day since that fateful night, but beyond the general silence he also expects the continued and complete utter shutout that their therapist assured him one day would end but hasn’t, along with another nearly sleepless night on the couch because Arthur hasn’t been able to bring himself to sleep in their bed after Merlin took to sleeping in the spare room leaving far too much space for Arthur to occupy alone. In the end, all those expectations and assumptions of how the night would proceed are shot down the minute he crosses through the entrance hallway of their home and finds Merlin pacing the length of their living room, muttering and biting the side of his thumb, clearly agitated judging by the disorderly tufts of dark hair that look more rung through than Merlin’s normal, _natural_ , disarray. Merlin’s frantic movements do not cease until Arthur calls his name, and before Arthur is even fully aware, he has an armful of trembling, sobbing, nearly inconsolable Merlin who is clinging to him like life depends on it, as if _they_ depend on it, and maybe it does, maybe _they_ do, especially when Arthur catches words like, _don’t leave me_ , and _I love you_ , and _I can get better_ , spilling from Merlin’s mouth, all of which cause Arthur to hold his husband even tighter.

Arthur hushes Merlin with soothing tones and a murmured promise of, “I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a step forward at least.

__

Present

It wasn’t the greatest of starts, nor were leaps and bounds achieved in repairing what had been broken between them, but it was a beginning. There were still days when Merlin didn’t speak, as if Merlin expended all his energies just to make it through a day with other people’s children that by the time Merlin came home he was spent and had nothing left for them. While Merlin had begun attending their couples therapy sessions again after that night, it was only about a quarter of them and only on Merlin’s worst days, even though it’s the other days Merlin really should’ve been present because he was more responsive and open to talking and listening. Even though they had started sleeping in their bed again the night of the one year anniversary of their son’s death, that is basically all they did: sleep, take up space, stare into the darkness, it varied by the night, but it was like a barrier still remained, separating and keeping them from fully connecting, returning to the Arthur and Merlin who’d been able to weather anything the world threw at them. Merlin taking up the left side, and Arthur occupying the right, both maintaining their space until sleep claimed them, if it claimed them. Sometimes they woke up unconsciously tangled together, a rare moment Arthur didn’t dare disrupt when he’d been the first to wake, feigning sleep until Merlin stirred, body usually stiffening upon waking before carefully extracting himself from Arthur and their bed in what Arthur felt was fear and shame he couldn’t understand, especially when Merlin wouldn’t talk about it.

It continued like that, another five months, before they’d both been pushed to their breaking points and the walls cracked, tumbled and completely crumbled, leaving their friends thinking it was the beginning of the end, when in reality, it was only a beginning neither of them saw coming.

__

Eight Months Ago

Arthur uses a hired car to get home. It’s late, his head is pounding, and he’s both physically and mentally exhausted, so much so for the first time since they, he, _they_ started therapy he doesn’t show up for their now only weekly counseling session. He can’t say it was a conscious or unconscious decision, but he can admit believing odds were he would have been the only one to show up anyway, so what did it really matter whether he made it or not. He could afford any missed appointment fee billed, so did it really matter? Taking a deep breath before entering their home, Arthur relents that one point, because it does matter, and he’d face the deserved look of disappointment that their therapist will deny giving but will be obvious nonetheless. After all, therapists seem not to say much, and then lie about what they claim they aren’t saying. Sometimes, Arthur thinks he’d get the same results by locking himself in the study, talking to himself.

“Arthur?”

Merlin’s worried voice precedes his appearance in the entranceway, meeting Arthur before he’s taken a step from the door. The questioning and uncertain tone of Merlin’s voice causes Arthur’s jaw to clench, keys digging into his palm as Arthur’s grip tightens. Any other day, _any other day_ , he would have welcomed this, Merlin’s concern, Merlin seeking him out, Merlin just talking to him, _with him_ , and not just at him, but go figure the day that ends up being one of Merlin’s good days is one of Arthur’s worst. Turns out the one counseling session Arthur misses is one that Merlin actually brought himself to attend. And of course, he is definitely not ready for the confrontation to come. 

“Merlin,” Arthur utters his husband’s name as a plea he hopes, _prays_ , Merlin can hear and understand, but in the end seems to land on deaf ears.

“Arthur, where were you? I waited…”

Arthur turns then, halting Merlin’s words with a look, daring his husband to continue the same line he’s delivered more times than he can remember, but where Arthur’s question was always met with silence, he cannot guarantee the same in kind to Merlin.

“I waited…”

“Just like I’ve waited a million times before?” Arthur pushes his way past Merlin, hearing his keys skid across the entryway table, having tossed them harder than planned, and landing with a thud he could care less whether damages their hardwood floor.

“Arthur!” Merlin called out, following close behind.

“What?” He whirls around on Merlin, nearly colliding before Merlin takes a step back in shock, and perhaps a bit of fear. “What _Mer_ lin? What?” 

“I’m trying…” Merlin attempts, but it’s something Arthur doesn’t have the patience to hear tonight.

“Yeah, well some days it feels like I’m the only one that is,” he throws back, cutting Merlin off. “God, Merlin, it’s been over a year…”

“ _Arthur_ , I’m well aware…”

Arthur ignores Merlin’s tone, the one saying, _screaming_ , he doesn’t want to talk about this.

“Yes, _you’re well aware_ , but are you even aware we are unrecognizable? I look at you… hell, I’ve looked myself in the mirror, and I don’t recognize the person staring back. I keep waiting for you to come back, the you I know is in there, but every day it’s like you get buried deeper and deeper and I…”

“You what, Arthur? What?”

Taking a deep breath, Arthur releases it slowly, anger still brewing under the surface, but reined in enough for him to continue.

“Some days, I don’t know if all this trying is worth it, I don’t know if you feel it’s worth it,” Arthur admits, painful as it is, and God how he wished their therapist was here to mediate before too much is said, and more misunderstood.

Merlin physically jerks back at this admission, and Arthur expects his husband to recoil into himself, just like each and every other time he’s been pushed in the last year, he expects to be left alone for the rest of the night and probably the next several days as history repeats itself again, but what he doesn’t expect is Merlin pushing back, Merlin growing angry and physical, probably expecting Arthur to cower himself, but he’s had too rough a day with everything that could go wrong at the office going wrong and to top it all off his father making an appearance and once again dropping more than a hint about it being high time Arthur rectified the situation at home and move on (meaning leave behind what – _who_ – is weighing him down). 

“Fuck, Arthur, I lost a baby, not my wallet or a pair of mittens. It takes time…”

“I’m well aware of what _we’ve_ lost, but do you even realize it? All of it?”

“What…”

They are in each other’s personal space, Merlin having grabbed Arthur’s arm, closer than they’ve allowed themselves consciously in forever, and Arthur’s reminded of the fire of Merlin’s eyes when they fight, how it’s been even longer than this era of a year since he’s seen it, how it affects him, and how much he wishes Merlin could magic them back in time, make all of these months and years disappear, obliterate all the pain and loss and right them back to who they are, who they _were_ , to find again what has been buried under the depression and mourning.

“We, Merlin, _we_ lost. I may not have had the _connection_ you had with him, but you can hardly punish me for that. I felt him move too, you know. I spent every night praying that this time, this time it would be different, and talking to him long after you’d fallen asleep, telling him about you and me, and what a wonderful life we were going to have. Maybe I feared he’d never know that, maybe subconsciously, or at the back of my mind I assumed our luck would run out and was trying to give everything I could to him before it was too late, but I wanted him just as much as you did. I _loved_ him just as much…”

Arthur’s shaking, _trembling_ , by the time his words trail off, he can feel the quake from his calves, up through his shoulders, and all the way down to the tips of his fingers. His chest _aches_ , whether it be from the pain of loss he’s never fully been able to grieve in the needful wake of having to be Merlin’s rock, needing to move on for both of them because they both couldn’t just fall apart, could they, or perhaps it’s simply the fact he can’t catch his breath. One sure fact is Arthur doesn’t realize he’s crying until Merlin’s own fingertips wipe away the wetness on his cheek, followed by the tentative press of lips following the trail of fingertips and the ghost of his name breathed against his skin. More tears fall after that, but not just his own.

“I… I’m… _God_ Arthur, I’m so…”

He doesn’t let Merlin finish, hands grabbing hold of Merlin’s shirt as he pulls his husband in, shifting to capture Merlin’s mouth with his own, silencing the apology and anguish Arthur doesn’t want to hear as things seem to finally click within Merlin, like a water bucket turned over head. Arthur just holds Merlin close, lips never leaving the other’s until Merlin eventually sags against him, a small whimper barely audible but heard all the same, as the kiss is slowly reciprocated, almost unwillingly. When Merlin’s mouth parts that little bit, just enough encouragement pushing Arthur further, tongue brushing and then slipping between Merlin’s lips, it quickly turns from chaste to hungry, and devastatingly so. Arthur feels like a desert man who’s found an oasis, welcoming the shove against the hallway wall and Merlin crowding his space.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t know how they ended up like this, Arthur in the middle of their bed, on his hands and knees, with Merlin pressing bruises into his skin where fingers had initially splayed but now painfully grip Arthur’s hips while thrusting into him from behind at a painfully, dizzying pace. What started out as reconnection morphed into something, Arthur can’t even begin to describe. There is lust, and anger and perhaps a bit of punishment, Merlin fighting what he physically needs, and probably a bit of frustration at Arthur for allowing this to continue, especially when Arthur had gone soft long before (thankfully Merlin hasn’t made any move to help him along toward release and is none the wiser). When Merlin reaches his own release, it’s with a shuttering, heartbreaking cry, and gasps of _I’m sorry_ , and _this wasn’t supposed…_ into the back of Arthur’s neck, but no matter how much this wasn’t planned, or how much this wasn’t _supposed_ to happen, the one thing Arthur does know is that _this_ was inevitable.

__

Present

“Alright kiddo, to bed with you.”

Arthur focuses back on his husband and Godson, throat tight over the memory, eyes moist as he tries to clear his throat before Merlin notices.

“But I’m not…” Max yawns wide and loudly, before finishing, “tired.”

Merlin chuckles while scooping the five-year-old up. Max doesn’t resist, laying his head on Merlin’s shoulder belying his statement, arms wrapping around Merlin’s neck, and even that catches something within Arthur and he has to swipe at a tear that does escape, taking a deep breath through his still too tight throat.

“Hey, okay there?”

“Hm,” Arthur fakes uselessly with a nod. “Fine, I think you need to get this one to bed.”

Arthur ruffles Max’s curls, the boy yawning again, as Merlin stops next to him. He kisses Merlin and attempts reassuring the concerned look he receives.

“I’m fine, promise.”

Merlin eyes him a moment, before pecking him back. “I’ll be a minute… or a few.”

Arthur watches Merlin head for the stairs to the second floor, eyes on him until Merlin disappears round the corner of the upper landing. Once Merlin is out of sight, Arthur makes his way to the couch and sits _heavily_ , trying to rid his brain of that memory, and that of the morning after when he woke to find Merlin packing a bag and muttering more apologies and spouting, _I don’t want to hurt you anymore_ , which was ridiculous when watching Merlin leave had been the second most painful thing he ever had to endure.

Merlin returned to Ealdor that morning after, to the welcoming arms of his mother, leaving Arthur behind, and at the time he’d been okay with that. It hurt, of course it hurt, to know he was useless in helping Merlin through the loss of their son, but if anyone was going to get through to Merlin, Arthur believed it was Hunith. So Arthur let Merlin go without a fight, a fight he no longer had in him to raise, and bore the pain each morning he woke and each night he returned to an empty home. He continued burying himself in work, much to Elena’s dismay, and paid little to no attention to taking care of himself beyond the necessities of washing, wearing clean clothes and at least getting in one good meal a day, but as with anything glossed over, what’s being ignored has a strange way of always coming back and rearing its ugly head, ready or not.

__

Six Months ago

This is all Elena’s fault. Well, maybe not _all_ her fault, given the circumstances, but had she minded her own business and kept her mouth shut, he would still be back at the office, biting off the head of three (at the minimum) interns before lunch, skipping said lunch yet again because there was too much that needed handled before clocking out (not to mention the persistent queasy stomach that’s been the norm as of late – ever since Merlin left), and accidentally falling asleep (he does not take or need _naps_ ) at his desk by midafternoon. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea he hired one of his best mates from university as his assistant, but then again she was best of any candidate interviewed at the time, and still now seems happy enough to be in the same position she began all those years ago, the only person he trusts to hold said position and ensures her pay reflects that trust and keeps her from entertaining employment elsewhere, whether in or outside the company.

Admittedly, Elena’s butting in is a small price to pay, but she had no right setting his sister on him with her concerns, which triggered Morgana threatening Uther on him (his father being the _last_ person he wanted to think about dealing with), leaving Arthur no other choice than making an appointment with their family physician and keeping said appointment. He refuses either woman’s offer to accompany him insisting, _I’m a grown man, I think I can make a medical appointment on my own_. He received a raised brow from his sister, and a look of worry and nail biting from Elena, but each accepted his refusal and thus, is how he finds himself here, sitting in an exam room, waiting on Gaius’s return, after having been poked and prodded and drained of blood, all while wearing a less than flattering exam gown (less than covering too). There are a million responsibilities waiting for him back at Pendragon Holdings, a million things requiring his attention that should be distracting him, but Arthur can’t seem to focus on a single one. What does take up his thoughts are a month worth of mornings he can’t keep his breakfast settled (no matter how miniscule that breakfast was), exhaustion that’s been dragging him down just as long, and the medical phenomenon he’s been denying the cause of it all.

When Gaius _finally_ returns to the exam room, because while he’s been the Pendragon’s family physician since before Arthur could walk the man does have other patients to attend, there is a look about him, not so much grave but at the least troubled or one of a man preparing to deliver the last news Arthur wants to hear. It's one that has Arthur's stomach dropping, or is it just more symptoms making their presence known again? When he's told, it's as if Gaius isn't speaking English, and he makes the older man repeat himself more than once. 

“Arthur, my prognosis isn't going to change the more I repeat myself,” Gaius states, rather than stating the obvious again. 

“I know,” Arthur sighs, rubbing his eyes. “But... This can’t… I mean how... how is this possible?”

Gaius levels Arthur a look with an upraised brow. 

“I mean I know... Well, I think I know but... How?” He’s willing to admit being frustrated, not just by the fact that he’s pregnant but everything leading up to this moment, and while subconsciously there’s fear, he’s not ready to succumb to that just yet.

Gaius releases a long suffering sigh that is usually reserved more for Merlin, but Arthur is not unused to having it directed at him either. “While Merlin being able to conceive is rare and only possible due to his magic, untrained as it may be, I can assure you, while your condition is even _rarer_ , it too is still possible due to Merlin's magic.”

“But this can't be happening...”

“I assure you it can, and it is,” Gaius disagrees back, but offers a reassuring, supportive and hopeful smile. “Think of it as a blessing...”

“A blessing! My husband has been gone visiting his mum for the last eight weeks _working things out_ , and hasn't been back since. I haven't even spoken to him since... Well, _since_ , so pardon my doubt believing it being glad tidings when I show up announcing something that is the _last_ thing Merlin wants or is ready to deal with.”

“I think you underestimate Merlin…” Gaius begins, but Arthur gives Gaius his own version of the raised eyebrow look, causing the man to rethink his strategy. “Merlin is stronger than he gives himself credit for, he's just forgotten. When he needs to be strong, he will be there for you. After everything... he wouldn't want you going through this alone.”

“He's been through so much, Gaius...”

Gaius places a warm, comforting, _fatherly_ , hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “So have you, my dear boy, this didn't just happen to Merlin, but you as well.”

“It’s the worst timing,” Arthur reasons. 

“Or perhaps the best. Sometimes a person needs something to work towards, to pull them through the bleakest hour,” Gaius reasons right back.

“I wasn't enough?”

Gaius offers not a pitying look, but something closer to somber, _sad_ , and understanding. “I don't believe it was that you weren't _enough_ , but that he lost his purpose between you two.”

“All I ever wanted was for Merlin to be happy.”

Gaius pats Arthur's cheek. “And I feel that's all Merlin wanted for you too, to make you happy, he just lost his way and needs reminded that he still can, and more importantly, that he is allowed to be happy again.”

This isn’t the first time in his life where Arthur wished this man were his father. Don’t get him wrong, Arthur loves his father, there is no question about that, no matter how strained their relationship may be, but having Gaius in his corner, knowing and understanding what Arthur needs to hear has been a life saver time and again. 

“Thank you Gaius,” Arthur says with emotion he blames solely on hormones if anyone called him on the rare expression of open affection, but knows it is more than hormones alone. 

Gaius smiles and pats his cheek affectionately again. “You're stronger than you give yourself credit for too, Arthur, and you are allowed to be happy again as well.” 

Arthur shakes his head, not believing one word, but grateful for this man being in his life, filling the supportive _fatherly_ role when his own father cannot.

“Thank you,” Arthur says again, with a head duck and thick throat, adding, “I hope you're right, for both of us.”

Gaius leaves the room shortly after, but not before providing Arthur mounds of informational pamphlets (most of which are probably still buried somewhere at home), along with a bottle of vitamins and the suggestion _if they make you nauseous, might I suggest taking them before bed rather morning_. Arthur stares after the closed exam room door for more than a few moments, his brain muddled and slowly catching up to the realization that _this_ is really happening, that somehow he is going to have to figure a way to, not break the news, but somehow come up with a way to tell Merlin that won’t compound what Merlin is already having difficultly dealing with. 

His hands not shaking but a bit unsteady, Arthur begins the process of dressing, more than ready to rid himself of the humiliating gown. His fingers fumble with shirt buttons and belt, and even his tie bears the brunt of frayed nerves. Arthur gives up on a perfect knot after his third attempt, just wanting to return to the office, to something normal, something he knows how to deal with even if his head isn’t in the game for business meetings and office politics. The last people he wants to deal with right now are Elena and Morgana, who will be waiting his return to the office, but between them, his empty home and facing Merlin, they were the lesser evils. Taking a deep, steadying breath and gathering the pile of pamphlets and bottle of vitamins, Arthur steals himself to return to what feels more like reality than his own life at the moment, thinking one more day, just one more day and then he will go see Merlin. 

Arthur quickly realizes he won’t be getting _just one more day_ when he steps back into the waiting room and comes face to face with a pacing and panicked faced Merlin whose steps stutter and halt at the sound of the closing door, leaving them staring at one another, Arthur simply not believing his eyes and Merlin, he’s not exactly sure what Merlin is actually thinking, but he can see signs of worry, and stress, and uncertainty, all he knows is because of him, and all because Elena or Morgana (probably both) couldn’t keep their stupid mouths shut.

“Arthur…” Merlin takes a step forward, but Arthur takes one back, hand held up forestalling Merlin’s advancement.

“No… Don’t…”

All eyes in the waiting room are on them, the attention making his skin crawl as nameless patients take less interest in the three month old magazine issues and more in their personal drama. Arthur’s been taught since he can remember to always stand his ground, to never back down or be coward into a corner, and true to form, he’s never run from a difficult situation, never avoided impossible obstacles, but he is damned if this was going to happen with a room full of strangers taking pleasure in the real-life _drama_ unfolding before them like a cheap soap opera that is more exciting than their own lives.

Merlin tries again, hand reaching for Arthur’s arm, snagging hold of Arthur’s suit jacket before being shaken off.

“I can’t… not…” Arthur shakes his head, dropping half the informational pamphlets Gaius provided as he side steps Merlin making his way for the exit, ignoring the murmured whispers behind him, and Merlin calling his name before the exit door closes.

Arthur’s feet carry him into the small car park behind the medical building and toward his car with swift and yet unsteady steps where they stop, he stops, and his brain seems to finally shut down. The world shuts down as everything else he’d been carrying drops to the ground, hands now braced against the side of his car as he takes breath after breath, each and every one not quite feeling deep enough if the dizziness is any indication. Arthur closes his eyes, shutting out his panicked reflection in the driver-side window, one he barely recognizes staring back, willing himself to calm, but it isn’t until he feels Merlin’s arms wrap around from behind (one around his waist, the other across his chest) that his chest loosens and Arthur feels himself weakly sag back against Merlin. His hands settle on each of Merlin’s, needing reassurance that Merlin is actually there and wanting to hold on to keep him there, and some how, even with the distance that’s been separating them, Merlin gets it, still gets _him_ and holds on a little tighter.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” Merlin says, arms never loosening, probably fearing as much as Arthur the other will simply disappear otherwise, and when Merlin continues, there’s a waver in his voice. “But… I’m here. I’m not going…”

“I’m pregnant,” Arthur cuts off Merlin’s promise (the one he has no hope of Merlin keeping), expecting the gasp that escapes, leaving Merlin and himself both breathless in the voiced admission, but never once does Merlin’s support waver, not even when Arthur finally breaks down admitting, “I can’t… Merlin, I can’t do this alone.”

“Ar-Arthur,” Merlin whisper-hushes against his ear, voice unsteady but still assuring in its honesty as he continues, “I’m not going anywhere.”

And probably for the first time, in a long time, Arthur allows himself to hope.

Present 

Eyes closed and head resting on the back of Gwen and Lance’s _extremely_ comfortable couch (what _is_ it made out of, clouds), Arthur hears the creak of stairs announcing Merlin’s return before anything else. He doesn’t move straight away, eyes burning from the not so restful sleep the night before, feet sore and swollen and back radiating an ache that hasn’t ceased in the last month from the additional, ill-proportioned, weight he’s been carrying, but when Merlin’s hands settle on either side of his rounded stomach and they both feel movement and then the press of a tiny appendage against Merlin’s palm from within, Arthur can’t say he has any _real_ complaints to being pregnant. Yes, there have been moans and groans here and there that might’ve sounded more whiney than manly about the aches and pains and swelling and how he should just move into the bathroom with how many trips he makes there in a day, but none of those expressed grumbles truly held any adverse feelings. He’s eight months along now, more than ready to be done with this pregnancy for sure, but never once have there ever been any regrets, especially when he opens his eyes and sees the happy-goofy grin Merlin beams down to where his hand rests and presses back gently and playfully, seeking out more movement. Merlin is never disappointed because the little one within always plays back. Arthur suspects it’s due to Merlin’s magic, which will occasionally send him down the path of wondering if their child will be just as gifted (along with adding a few worries in the mix, not about the magic itself but other’s acceptance of such gifts), but he’s determined to take each day as it comes and tries not to fret too terribly much about a future that hasn’t even been written yet. Over the last couple years, they’ve learned first hand too many times over to enjoy each day and worry about tomorrow, well, tomorrow.

Shaking those thoughts, Arthur focuses in on Merlin seated on the coffee table between Arthur’s spread knees. Merlin meets his eyes, still smiling happily after a few moments of playing and cooing at his stomach, something to this day Arthur never tires of, but Merlin’s smile quickly dims, Arthur assumes when taking in the state of _him_. “Everything alright?”

Arthur covers Merlin’s hands with his own, smiling what he hopes expresses just how really, truly, he feels, and gives Merlin’s hands a gentle squeeze while their baby continues moving (what Arthur likes to believe is happily) about. His throat feels tight with emotion, good emotion, _happy_ emotion, when he responds, “Everything is perfect.”

Merlin’s smile brightens again as he moves forward, one hand remaining against the side of Arthur’s stomach while the other presses into the back of the couch as he leans in for a kiss. Arthur’s free hand cups around Merlin’s neck, thumb stroking Merlin’s jaw and cheek, cherishing the moment, not because they are fleeting and rare, but because he’s learned from their past not to take anything for granted. Their life together may be far from true _perfection_. They both still have their good and bad days, but instead of dwelling on the bad memories from the past, they choose to focus on celebrating the good of today and the days to come. Instead of being weighed down by past losses, they rejoice in the milestones successfully passed and plan for their future family. So, while they may not live a perfect life, and their life may not live up to the expectations of Arthur’s father, their life together is perfect enough for them, and that’s all that really counts.

Epilogue – One Year Later

The water rushing into the tub drowns out the sounds from the lower level of their home, remaining guests (who are really family and friends that are just as such) talking and laughing, enjoying the afternoon. Arthur watches the temperature sensor little yellow rubber duckie float and bob with the unstable water, waiting for the tub to reach an appropriate depth, still feeling as if this has all been a wonderful dream he fears waking from. After a year, he assumed that disbelief would be behind them, but there are still occasional mornings he wakes in fear, hands spreading over his flat stomach, where for a moment he believes it _was_ all a dream, but then the sound of Merlin grumbling next to him after being jostled from his snuggle against Arthur’s side, or the screech of crying from the next room brings reality back and he finds he can breathe again.

Arhtur’s pregnancy, in short, had been picture perfect _normal_. He gave birth to their daughter three days earlier of his proclaimed due date, after a successful cesarean delivery, and she greeted the world with a welcomed cry, Arthur admits to this day is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. When they’d asked Gaius about the differences, of why Merlin had such difficulties as opposed to Arthur’s own experience, Gaius had said, “It isn’t uncommon, even with a female pregnancy, for the carrier to experience the same difficulties with pregnancy. It’s just the way it is.”

It hadn’t been a satisfying answer, but Arthur doesn’t think anything could appropriately explain and give just reason to why they had to suffer so, but that was all in their past now.

“Bath ready?” Merlin’s question is more an announcement of his arrival, and that of their daughter, and effectively distracts Arthur from his thoughts of the past. “Because I’ve got one cake monster in desperate need of a wash down.”

Merlin is grinning from ear to ear, happiness making his eyes crinkle in a way they nearly disappear, as their one year-old daughter squirms in his outstretched arms, icing and cake having gotten to places even Arthur can’t fathom how.

“One bath of,” Arthur pauses, lifting the duck and checking its bottom, “perfect temperature, ready for the birthday girl.”

Cecilia Rose Pendragon squeals and reaches out for the duck with her chubby hands, but Arthur drops it back in the water before reaching up to take their daughter in hand and placing her in the tub. Their daughter kicks her legs, sending water everywhere, including towards her fathers, and they laugh while tag teaming, systematically washing away the sticky mess of icing and cake. There isn’t much time for play, to which Cecilia expresses her unhappiness by way of a distressed cry, but he still pulls his daughter from the dirty water while Merlin switches the shower on in order to rinse her off.

“We’ll have another bath later, promise,” Arthur coos, which she most-likely doesn’t understand (or believes) the promise, but does eventual quiet and calm as Merlin wraps a towel around her tiny body, taking Cecilia from Arthur to get her dressed again while Arthur cleans up the bath. 

Arthur makes quick work of clean up, and finds himself standing in the nursery doorway while Merlin talks and dresses Cecilia, obviously not in any real hurry to return to the celebration continuing downstairs. He can’t blame his husband one bit, because there are still days he doesn’t want to share her with anyone else either.

“Who’s the big birthday girl?” Merlin asks, standing their daughter up on the changing table, she beginning to bounce up and down on her legs laughing and smiling. “There’s my big girl! All grown up!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say _all grown up_ ,” Arthur interrupts, smiling and laughing with the two of them as Merlin turns, lifting Cecilia up. “And she’s only one, I hardly call that all grown up.”

“True, but she’s not our little peanut anymore,” Merlin returns, placing a kiss on Cecilia’s temple. “She’s growing so fast…”

“Not too fast,” Arthur stated, approaching his husband and daughter, wrapping his arms around them both and kissing Cecilia’s other temple and Merlin on the mouth. “Cecilia’s barely walking, and there are still many more milestones for her to pass.”

“I know, logically I get that, but Arthur, time… it’s gone by so fast, I want to freeze it, record it all, memorize every second. I want her to stay a baby forever but I also want to watch her grow, and I can’t wait to see the amazing person she will become.”

“With you as her father, I have no doubt she will be an amazing daughter any parent would be proud of,” Arthur admits, stroking the side of Cecilia’s head resting against Merlin’s chest. “An amazing big sister, too.”

That gets Merlin’s attention. “What?”

Arthur shrugs, attention focused on their daughter while butterflies flitter-fluttering in his stomach. Having more kids was always part of the plan, but so soon after Cecilia was born, not so much, but he’s beginning to think nothing in life should ever be planned, especially when all the wonderful things that have happened in his life never were. Meeting Merlin had been the most unexpected, life altering, event in his life, Arthur having thought it wouldn’t be until he was thirty and settled into his career before settling down within his personal life as well, but then entered whirlwind Merlin who didn’t just simply _love_ Arthur, but taught him _how_ to love, and more importantly how to live a life that wasn’t the mirror image of his father’s. Merlin having magic, definitely something he never would have planned or expected in life, and even with all the heartache they experienced at the hand of Merlin’s abilities, he takes one look at Cecilia and Arthur knows even the pain was worth it if they have this now.

“Arthur?”

Cecilia yawns wide and rubs her eye, the excitement of the day finally catching up with her. He sees a nap in _Grandma’s_ arms in her future, and God he could use a nap himself. 

“Hmm,” Arthur looks up into Merlin’s expectant eyes, and smiles.

“ _You_ are a _Prat_ ,” Merlin accuses, but it’s with a mirthful and hopeful smile, and God Arthur can see how much this man loves him by that look alone, it matching how much he loves Merlin in return. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and…”

Arthur surges up and kisses Merlin hard, one hand cupping the side of Merlin’s face, thumb and forefinger making a V beneath his left prominent ear, needing this one fortifying kiss before their life takes another unexpected yet wonderful turn. Merlin allows the distraction until Cecilia’s tiny hand begins patting at their cheeks, obviously unhappy about not being the center of attention, something she will have to get used to with another baby on the way.

They part laughing over their spoiled little girl who grins up at them, and when Arthur meets Merlin’s eyes again, he simply nods, knowing Merlin will understand the gesture as confirmation of what he’s implied and what Merlin’s assumed. Merlin doesn’t disappoint when Arthur finds himself on the receiving end of a wide smile, and misty, watery eyes, and a giddy, _girly_ , giggle Merlin can’t hold back before he’s soundly kissed again.

“I love you, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin states, pulling back and pressing his forehead against Arthur’s.

Even though it can’t come close to expressing what Arthur feels in that moment, he returns in kind, “And I love you, Merlin Pendragon.”

They had beat the odds.


End file.
